


i did it for you

by IndieBughead



Series: Cinematic Bughead [1]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Life As We Know It AU, Movie AU, Parenthood, Romance, a bit of a slow burn, character death at the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14532960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/pseuds/IndieBughead
Summary: Betty and Jughead  are forced into parenthood when their respective best friends Veronica and Archie unexpectedly die in a car accident, leaving behind their baby daughter. This would be easier if they could tolerate each other, or if they could be in the same room without ending up in a fight. Will parenthood bring them closer or make their dislike for each other grow?A "Life As We Know It" inspired AU.





	1. 1

**August 2012**

 

 

_She sits in the reading chair in the far corner of her living room, leafing through her signed copy of Toni Morrison’s Beloved. The foot that isn’t resting midair as her leg swings over her knee taps onto the hardwood floor, the pointy heel creating a meticulous rhythm._

 

_Flipping through the pages, she checks her watch for what seems like the hundredth time, sighing as she realizes an hour has gone by since she has sat down after doing her hair and makeup, pulling on a tight dress and her highest pair of heels. She turns another page hoping to get distracted enough to ignore the rumbling in her stomach. As her eyes skim across the familiar words and she begins to make sense of the all too familiar plot, she hears a brisk knock on her door. She stands up quickly, huffing in relief as she sets the book down on the small table beside her chair._

 

_She smooths her hands over the front of her dress and checks her reflection on the nearest mirror before opening the door. It swings open to reveal a young man, wearing a leather jacket and a crown shaped beanie over his unruly black curls. She hopes her initial disappointment at his attire doesn’t show as clearly on her face as she feels it on the inside. She greets him with her best Cooper smile._

 

_“Hey,” they say at the same time; each silently gauging the other as they smile politely._

 

_“Betty,” he leans slightly to the side as he acknowledges her, eyeing her curiously._

 

_“Forsythe,” she replies, extending her hand to shake his lightly._

 

_“Jughead,” he corrects, letting go of her hand._

 

_“Jughead,” Betty repeats after him slowly, trying out the foreign word in her tongue as she tries to push back the red flags forming in her head. What the hell kind of name is that? And why is a full grown man wearing a beanie to a date?_

 

_“Jughead yeah, everyone calls me Jughead,” he says with a sheepish smile playing on his lips, motioning vaguely to the top of his head._

 

_“Okay well, it’s great to finally meet you, Jughead,” she responds after a beat, giving up on understanding the meaning behind it._

 

_“Am I late?” Jughead asks, his brow furrowed._

 

_“Um, just an hour, but you know. I finished getting ready and Veronica said this was your M.O, so,” she half-shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant._

 

_“Archie said you’d probably say something like that,” he replies, his eyes flashing teasingly at her, but Betty could swear his neck is tinted pink._

 

_“Oh, really? O-kay,” Betty’s cheeks are starting to hurt from all the forced smiling and laughing she’s been doing during the entire interaction._

 

_They both chuckle, albeit forcefully, their laughter dying down awkwardly as silence settles between them._

 

_“Great,” she mutters, deciding to just go with it for their friends’ sake. ”Should we go?”_

 

_“Yes, yeah,” Jughead says, his tone of voice giving away how excited he feels about the outing as he moves away from the door._

 

_“Let’s go get dinner,” she says, almost to herself as she closes the door, glaring at the inside of her apartment. “I’m super hungry, it’s been you know, an hour.”_

 

_They walk towards the front of her residential complex in silence, Betty contemplating how to start a conversation with him to get their date going._

 

_“So, um, I heard you just moved to Atlanta,” Betty states, rummaging her brain for any other thing to add. Had Veronica mentioned anything else about him?_

 

_“Yup,” Jughead responds vaguely, not adding any other information._

 

_“How long have you known Archie for?”_

 

_“Uh, since high school,” Jughead replies curtly._

 

_“Oh, wow,” Betty says after a few seconds of not hearing any other detail being mentioned. Awesome, she’ll be doing all the talking._

 

_He steps forward and opens the small gate that separates the complex from the street, letting her step through first. She mutters her thanks before deciding to speak again to fill the uncomfortable silence._

 

_“I know Veronica from college. We were in the same sorority together,” she informs him, a tint of pride in her voice. “Where’s your car?”_

 

_“Right here,” he says, motioning to his left side, where a motorcycle is parked against the sidewalk._

 

_“Here you go,” he tells her as he reaches for the helmet resting against the seat, pushing it into Betty’s unwilling hands and ignoring her astounded “oh” before hopping on and roaring the bike to life. “Come on.”_

 

_Betty moves her eyes from the helmet to Jughead’s smirking face and back again until he speaks again._

 

_“You’ll need to hold on tight, promise not to read into it,” he jokes feebly, his smirk faltering slightly._

 

 _“Um, I’m not really dressed for 40 mile-an hour_ _—_ _“_

 

_“What?”_

 

_“I’m not really dressed for 40-mile-an-hour winds!” She screams louder over the engine, her free hand pointing at her dress. She giggles nervously at Jughead’s pained face. “Sorry.”_

 

_He heaves a sigh, turning the engine off and hopping off the bike._

 

 _“You know, I just don’t think I could hitch my leg that high up there, anyway_ _—“_ _she continues as Jughead walks to where she’s standing, giving her an unimpressed look._

 

_“But I’ll drive, I just got this great new car and I love driving it,” Betty amends, gesturing to the small smart car parked to their right._

 

_“It’s uh, a sweet ride,” Jughead comments, scratching the back of his neck and adjusting his beanie as he stars at what he can only describe as a mini car._

 

_“I know right?” She replies enthusiastically, not catching the sarcastic undertone to his voice. “Hop in!”_

 

_Jughead discreetly looks sideways as Betty unlocks the car, making sure no one witnesses him getting into it._

 

_He hardly fits inside, his long legs barely making it into the designated space and his knees jerking against the glovebox.  Betty doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort as she turns around in her seat to stare expectantly at him._

 

_“Alright, so where shall we go?” Jughead asks after a minute of silently sitting; Betty’s frozen -in -place smile and her hard stare starting to make him squirm._

 

 _“Well, where did you make the reservations?” Betty fires back, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she tries to maintain her smile. At Jughead’s blank face, she continues. “That you said you were going to make_ _—you didn’t make them?”_

 

_“I said that? I don’t—“_

 

_“Uh, it’s cool,” Betty says, shrugging her shoulder forcefully and attempting to calm the anger swelling up inside her as her eyes dart to stare out the window for a few seconds. “Whatever.”_

 

_“Yeah, yeah it’s cool. We can go wherever. I don’t care. You pick,” he replies easily, not seemingly bothered by it. “Well just go to a restaurant and slide right in.”_

 

_“Oh, well okay. Have you ever been to Café Eight?”_

 

 _“Sounds great, let_ _’s go there,” Jughead answers, nodding at Betty even when he has no idea what Café Eight is._

 

 _“Good, the chef there is a friend from_ _—_ _”_

 

_Just then, Jughead’s phone begins to ring. They both sit in silence as the words “lick it good suck this pussy just like you should, right now, lick it good, suck…” fill the car, getting louder as it goes unanswered._

 

 _Jughead_ _’s eyes widen as he tries to muffle his phone by hiding it deeper into his jacket pocket. He gives Betty a sheepish smile as he says, “It’s my phone.”_

 

_“Yeah,” Betty laughs humorlessly, cursing Veronica and Archie for setting her up with a douchebag. “I figured. Don’t you want to answer?”_

 

_“No, no. It’ll just go to voicemail, don’t worry,” he says under his breath, suddenly feeling overheated with the jacket and the stupid song._

 

_“Okay, well I was just saying the chef there is a friend from culinary school and I can—“_

 

_His phone begins to ring again, making Jughead close his eyes and mutter a curse in the dark._

 

_“You know what, why don’t you go ahead and answer? I can wait,” Betty says passive-aggressively, her mouth smiling but her words coming out full of spite._

 

_“Alright, yeah. It is a little too loud…”he responds, shifting uncomfortably to fish his phone from his leather jacket pocket._

 

 _Betty inspects her nails as Jughead speaks quietly into the phone. “Hey, what_ _’s up?”_

 

_Whatever is said on the other end makes him chuckle dryly. “Well you know me, always in the middle of something,” he says humorlessly. He stays silent for a few seconds, listening to what Betty can almost swear is a female voice. Not that she would ever admit to eavesdropping._

 

_“Alright, I’ll be there. 11?”_

 

_He sneaks a sideways glance at Betty, who is now furiously picking at her nails with a glare. He clears his throat uncomfortably before adding quickly. “Um, you know what, let’s make it 10:30, okay?”_

 

_He hangs up the phone, finding Betty’s expectant eyes already on him, a quirked eyebrow in place._

 

_“I’m sorry; it’s just a friend with a problem—“_

 

_Betty interrupts him with a shake of her head. “You know, we don’t have to do this.”_

 

_“Really?” she tries not to flinch at the hopeful tone of his voice as she grits her teeth and forces a smile. She huffs and is about to say something when he starts to unbuckle his seat belt, making her jaw drop. “Okay.”_

 

_“Oh my God, are you serious right now?” she turns to face him completely, a shocked expression on her face._

 

_Jughead freezes mid opening the door and turns his eyes back to her, sighing._

 

_“Come on Betty, you knew from the moment you saw me that you didn’t like me,” he says, gripping the bridge of his nose as he speaks calmly._

 

_“But our mutual friends set this up so I think we owe it to them to just—“she replies, her voice rising slightly. She’s thankful for his interruption because she’s not even sure what she was going to say._

 

_“To what? To fake a few hours making small talk?” he snorts, shaking his head at her.  “Look, best case scenario we get really drunk and hook up even if you’re—“_

 

_“What kind of an asshole are you, Jughead?” she cuts him off, shooting a glare straight into his blue eyes._

 

_“Look, it’s a Saturday night— Archie just wanted for me to have some fun for once but I’ll just end up going to help my friend out—and you can go do whatever you like doing. You look like you like to read, right?”_

 

_“I like to read, really?” she huffs out, annoyed. “Alright, here’s a little piece of advice for you if you wanted to ensure this wasn’t going to suck, how about not showing up an hour late and making a booty call right in front of me?”_

 

_“Wh— my friend needs help—“he straightens up in his seat, defensive._

 

_“Oh right, and you were going to help her out with your magic penis?” she sneers, raising her eyebrows up to her hairline._

 

_He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck, flustered._

 

_“That’s not—okay,” he sighs. “If you want to go out we can…”_

 

_“Oh, my God no, “Betty almost shrieks, ready to fling her purse at him. “I’m not going out with you now, are you crazy? Get out of my car! Get out of my new car!”_

 

_They both step out of the car, Betty’s heels clicking loudly against the pavement as she walks quickly through the gate._

 

_“I have no idea what Archie and Veronica were thinking, honestly…” she calls over her shoulder, not glancing back to see Jughead dragging a frustrated hand over his face as he turns to his bike._

 

_“Yeah, me neither,” he calls out after her in annoyance, loud enough to make her stomp furiously up the steps to her house._

 

_She takes her phone out quickly and hits speed dial, not even letting her dark haired best friend finish her greeting._

 

_“Veronica, oh my God the only way you will ever make this up to me is if you promise I never have to see him again.”_

 

_***_

_**May 2016** _

 

 

_The shaky camera focuses on a picture depicting Veronica wrapped up in Archie’s arms, both beaming, as Betty’s tearful voice fills the room._

 

_“Really, you are like the most important woman in my life...” it focuses on Archie and Veronica sitting at the main table, both smiling in Betty’s direction as she cries through her speech. “And Veronica is like the sister I never had. And I love you so much and I’m so grateful for you and Archie.”_

 

_The camera zooms back on Archie and Veronica, recording their reactions to the bridesmaid’s speech at their rehearsal dinner. It stays on them until Archie begins to guffaw, making Veronica jab him on the ribs as he continues to laugh._

 

_“Look at Jug,” he says, pointing to the back of the room.  The camera man turns in that direction, only to zoom in on Jughead, his eyes wide open as the entire wedding party stares at him with his hands and mouth full of cake. He raises his frosting-smeared hand and waves at everyone sheepishly, making the entire room whistle and clap with laughter._

 

_The camera switches back to Betty as she taps the mic and clears her throat to speak again. “Anyways, I was just going to say how I excited I am for you guys—“_

 

_Jughead takes the mic away from her, swaying on his feet. “I love you, Veronica,” he slurs out._

 

_Betty fights the mic out of his hands, “Jughead, Jughead—it’s my turn, you already gave your speech!” She shoves at his chest furiously._

 

_***_

_Pictures are outside in the garden. Archie and Veronica stand in the middle, an assortment of the groom’s party and the bride’s party by their side. Jughead stands next to Archie, while Betty is a couple of spaces removed from Veronica. The photographer calls out to her, “Are you the maid of honor? Why don’t you get closer to the bride?”_

 

_She switches places with another bridesmaid, effectively standing in front of Jughead. They all settle and smile for the next picture, but Betty suddenly yelps when Jughead pulls her hair from behind, and steps out of line._

 

_“Don’t touch me, do not touch me, I knew this was going to happen!” she huffs, pointing her finger warningly at Jughead as he smirks. She shoves his chest forcefully, making him laugh. Veronica begins to giggle, and soon everyone is joining in as well._

 

_“Stop encouraging him!” She screams, turning around again and hitting him with her bouquet of flowers as he pulls her hair again. “Stop it! Stop it!”_

 

_She walks back to her previous spot, glaring as she speaks over the laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t stand next to him.”_

 

_In the back, Jughead and Archie share a high five as they grin in her direction._

 

_***_

_**December, 2016** _

 

 

_“Hey guys, here we are at the Christmas party. Betty, Ben.”_

 

_Archie zooms in on Betty decorating the Christmas tree, following her movements as she climbs down the small ladder and gets handed a glass of wine by Ben, her date for the night._

 

_“How’s that first date going you guys?” Comes Archie’s voice from behind the camera, not really catching the wince in Bettys smile as she grins back at him and lifts her glass up in a “cheers”. Ben snakes an arm around her waist and she squirms uncomfortably._

 

_Archie moves the camera around, the video becoming blurry as it settles back onto Jughead by the snacks table, stuffing his face with pie._

 

_“Jug, come on. Dinner starts in a few minutes,” Archie fake scolds him, zooming in on his best friend’s outraged face as he swallows a mouthful of dessert._

 

_“Come on, give me the camera,” he says, and for a moment all the videotape shows is Jughead’s chin as Archie hands him the camera before his ginger head pops into frame. Jughead follows him around the living room to where Veronica is standing chatting with some neighbors._

 

_“Look, look at Veronica’s bun in the oven,” he says excitedly, tapping Veronica’s shoulder to make her turn around in the middle of a story. “Excuse me guys.”_

 

_Veronica takes a look at the camera before her expression softens as Archie crouches down to rest his face against her rounded belly._

 

_“Well, well. Look at that…” says Jughead behind the camera as Archie excitedly caresses the bump._

 

_“It’s my daughter,” he says, a full smile on his face. He stands up again and plants a kiss on Veronica’s cheek._

 

_Jughead swivels around and catches Betty looking the other way and discreetly checking the wall clock as her date talks excitedly. He zooms in on her face as he approaches the couple, noticing a piece of green hanging from the ceiling._

 

_“Hey Betts, what’s this?” he says, gesturing upwards. Betty’s eyes follow the movement, shooting daggers at him as Ben leans forward and she leans back, making the sloppy kiss land on her cheek._

 

_“Happy holidays,” she tells the camera not noticing it’s still focused  on her as she mouths “you’re an asshole” to Jughead._

 

_***_

_**February, 2017** _

 

 

_The room is painted a soft blue, clouds lining the walls and ceiling. A crib stands by the window, hidden by Betty, Jughead and Veronica as they stand before Archie, who’s recording._

 

_Veronica hands the baby to Betty. “Hi baby girl,” she coos, sliding her gently into her arms. “Oh my Gosh, you’re so cute, aren’t you?”_

 

_Jughead walks closer to Betty and dives his hands under the baby, trying to take her._

 

_Betty holds the baby up to her chest protectively. “Hold on, Jughead, I just got her,” she hisses._

 

_“She’s with Auntie Betty now, Jug,” says Veronica calmly as she smiles at the baby in Betty’s arms._

 

_Jughead stares at the camera, “Dude!”_

 

_The camera shakes as Archie shrugs, and Jughead mutters, “traitor” under his breath._

 

_Betty slides the baby into Jughead’s arms._

 

_“Careful, Jughead, be gentle for God’s sake,” she tells him as Jughead holds on to the baby tightly._

 

_“I got her, I got her…” he says defensively before pretending to drop her. Betty and Veronica gasp, both girls’ hands flying to their mouths as Jughead smirks._

 

_“I’m just playing, she’s fine,” she winks at the camera as Betty begins to berate him and ask for the baby back._

 

_***_

**A year later**

 

Betty and Jughead sit in the backseat on either sides of the baby seat. Veronica is driving and Archie is in the passenger seat, both parents singing along to a ridiculous children’s song as their baby daughter gurgles in delight. Archie turns back periodically to film the baby’s reactions, making her giggle harder.

 

Jughead isn’t discreet in his exasperation as he groans once again and drops his head against the window with a loud thump. Betty settles on staring out the window or at the baby to zone out their horrible singing and the even more terrible lyrics.

 

They arrive shortly at The Andrews’ residence, a big white house with a huge garden and perfect interiors. Betty feels a pang in her chest every time she walks into their house and sees the home they have built for themselves, now completed with their perfect baby daughter. She’s not jealous of them, she loves their little family. She just wishes she had that with someone.

 

Archie and Jughead are outside, the former arranging tables in the backyard as Jughead bounces the baby around.

 

“Stop that, you’re going to get puked on. She’s in a bit of a vomit phase,” Archie says as he unfolds chairs.

 

“Nah, she loves me, right Soph?” he nuzzles her tiny head against his face. “Your uncle Jughead only shaves for you, you know that?”

 

Archie stands in front of him, his arms crossed. “Speaking of, I thought Sabrina was coming?”

 

“No, it’s over. It just wasn’t working,” Jughead replies with a shrug, not losing his focus on Sophie as she grabs onto his beanie. “I guess I didn’t see her as a potential anything really.”

 

Inside, Betty is arranging Sophie’s cake as Veronica walks around the house getting everything ready for their guests.

 

“So, I started taking Sophie to this pediatrician in town, you know,” Veronica speaks from the living room. Betty hums to show she’s listening as she takes out pieces of frosting from a box.

 

“And he is just so cute; I think I might have replaced my crush on Dr. Mike for him,” she says breezily as she comes to stand next to Betty. Betty gives her a knowing smile but lets her continue. “Anyway, my point is, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring so I complimented his nurse’s nails to ask if he—“

 

“Scoot,” Betty interrupts her as she bumps her hip lightly to hers so she can get closer to the cake. “V, I appreciate you doing this but come on, you have a terrible history of setting me up.”

 

“What? No I don’t Betty—“Veronica replies with indignation, her eyebrows knitting together.

 

“Oh come on, what about the chronic shoplifter? The pyromaniac? And let’s not even get into the Jughead disaster of 2012.”

 

“Hey, that’s not fair. That was Archie, I didn’t even know Jughead that well back then,” she protests, crossing her arms.

 

Betty continues to work on the cake as she says, “You at least knew he called himself Jughead, and that he wore a stupid beanie. That counts for something.”

 

Veronica laughs quietly at this, shaking her head as she places a hand over Betty’s, stilling her movements. Her wedding band glints against the sunlight coming from the window.

 

“Don’t be like all the other girls who judge me for not having a ring yet, V,” she says quietly, hiding her eyes as she removes her hand from under Veronica’s and sets the cake into a holder, inspecting it one last time.

 

“I’m not, I swear,” Veronica responds, giving her a smile.

 

“Good, now all you have to do is keep popping babies and I’ll keep baking cakes for them, alright?” She musters a wide smile and winks at her best friend, who rolls her eyes and takes a peek at the cake.

 

“Seriously, that’s better than my own wedding cake,” Veronica mourns, teasingly.

 

“Hey, I made your wedding cake!”

 

“Eh, it was a bit dry—“

 

Betty grabs the nearest object, a rolled up napkin, and throws it Veronica’s way, making them both laugh as it falls midway to the floor.

***

“Before everyone gets here,” says Veronica, holding out a mimosa in front of her. Archie stands beside her with an arm over her shoulders, his own hand holding a glass. “We wanted to toast Sophie’s favorite people, and our best friends. We made it through this year thanks to you guys, you kept us sane.”

 

Betty’s sitting with Sophie in her lap with Jughead standing a few steps behind her, both holding out glasses of their own.

 

“We love you guys,” says Archie, his voice cracking slightly.

 

“Are you…are you going to cry?” Jughead asks; his tone uncomfortable at the prospect of tears.

 

“Hey, fathers cry too,” Veronica admonishes, turning her head to the front door when the doorbell rings. “That must be the babysitter.”

 

“Why do you need a babysitter? We’re right here if you need help,” Betty says in a confused tone.

 

Veronica stops on her way to the door. “Because, Betty dear, she is amazing. We call her the baby whisperer.”

 

Jughead huffs out a snort, covering it as a cough when Betty glares at him.

 

“This is Polly,” says Veronica as she walks back to kitchen with a girl that looks around 13. She gives an awkward wave and lingers her eyes on Jughead, who chuckles uncomfortably when Amy doesn’t tear her eyes away and blushes when Veronica steers her away to show her something in the living room.

 

“Ooh, look at that Jug. You got yourself a rebound,” Archie teases him, earning a shove on the shoulder and a grumbled “shut the hell up.”

 

***

_"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Sophie…"_

 

The entire neighborhood seems to have gathered in the Andrews’ living room to celebrate Sophie’s first birthday. Veronica carries the cake out of the kitchen as everyone sings and Archie records everything. Sophie claps her hands excitedly all over the baby seat as Veronica sets the duck inspired cake in front of her. Once everyone’s done singing, she blows the candles and kisses her daughter’s round cheeks.

 

“Come on you guys, I want a picture of Sophie with her godparents on her first birthday party, let’s make it a tradition,” Archie says enthusiastically as Betty and Jughead approach Sophie and crouch down to be at her level, beaming at the camera.

 

“Alright, at the count of 3 everyone say: Jughead has a bald spot!”


	2. 2

**Spring**

Jughead has never been much of a runner, or to that effect, much of an athlete _—_ that has always been Archie’s whole thing. In high school, he’d sit on the bleachers reading or typing away on his computer while Archie ran around the field in his blue and gold football uniform. Now, at 30, he finds himself craving the same release writing used to give him _—_ back when his goal in life was to become a published author _—_ and finding it in the rush and burn of an early morning run.

 

He cuts through the park, passing by the recurring group of giggling girls in soccer uniforms who ogle his sweaty form as he runs by them every day. The irony of this being him now is not lost on him, for all the times he rolled his eyes at Archie as the ginger smirked and flexed his muscles for countless girls outside of Pop’s as he leaned on his bike and watched, but he’s sure that his complete lack of interest in this _particular_ group of girls must count for something. Then again, he’s never been really interested in any group of girls.

 

He slows down to a light jog as he rounds up the corner that leads to his apartment, taking deep breaths as he approaches the building. As much as he’s been running for the past couple of months, ever since he got his new crappy job, his physical endurance fully resents the complete lack of interest towards exercising he showed all throughout his high school and college career. The pain doesn’t beat the rush though, and at the end of the day, that’s all he’s looking for.

 

He manages to unlock the door at the same time as he slips off his sneakers without untying the laces, something he’s done ever since his mother bought him his first pair of second-hand laced sneakers back in elementary school.

 

He shuffles towards the coffee machine with socked feet and a slight pant, thankful for remembering to start it before he left almost an hour ago. He’s startled out of his thoughts just as he’s reaching for a mug when he hears a muffled snore behind him. Sighing, he sets the mug down and turns around to stare at the lump on his bed.

 

His apartment is pretty much an open space with no divisions. His bed is 7 steps away from the kitchen, 4 to the couch and 12 to the bathroom.

 

A lock of pink hair rests against the pillow on his side of the bed, and he debates for a few seconds whether he should let her be or wake her up before taking a shower and sprinting to the office. His decision is made for him when the pink haired girl raises her head groggily from the pillow, mouth set in a half yawn as she rubs the sleep off her eyes.

 

“Hey,” she grumbles in greeting. She blinks sleepily at him, a guilty expression starting to form.

 

“Hi Toni,” he turns and grabs the mug again, filling it with coffee. “When did you get in?”

 

He can’t see her face from where he’s standing against the counter, but he can almost feel her shrinking her already small shoulders. He gulps down a sip of coffee, waiting.

 

“Uh — around 6. I was waiting outside until you left for your run to sneak in,” she responds, her voice quiet.

 

He heaves another sigh as he slowly whips around to watch the only other person he considers a friend apart from Archie (and by extension, Veronica).

 

“Toni…we talked about this. If you need a place to crash, just let me know. You don’t need to wait outside in the cold,” he says, wincing at the thought of her early in the morning waiting to sneak in. It wouldn’t be the first time, not even close.

 

“I know, I’m sorry Jug,” she sighs, lifting the duvet and revealing what Jughead presumes are last night’s clothes. “I just— don’t want to be a bother.”

 

“You’re not. This isn’t the first time, remember? So don’t worry about it, you know you can crash here when you need to.”

 

Toni rises from the messy bed, slipping into her boots and walking towards Jughead in one swift, rehearsed movement. It’s the first time in a week, but they’re both used to it by now.

 

“Thank you Jug, you know how much this means to me,” she stands up on the tips of her toes and kisses his cheek. “You’ll be a great dad, you know?”

 

Jughead snorts and rolls his eyes at this, ruffling her hair. “Yeah, I don’t think _that’s_ happening anytime soon.”

 

***

 

“So, what do you think?” Kevin asks nervously, his teeth digging into his thumb as he stares expectantly at Betty.

 

She swallows the piece of muffin before her face breaks into a wide smile. “It’s _delicious_ , Kev. How soon can you make a batch? Mid-morning customers will start to pour in at any second.”

 

 _“Betty,”_ he whines, trailing behind her as they walk out of the kitchen into the small coffee shop. There are four small tables with chairs around them to one side of the room, the other side consisting mainly of a colorful display of muffins, cakes, and pastries in different shapes and sizes behind a glass counter. “Are you sure? I still think I should’ve gone for the Ceylon cinnamon instead of— _ow_ , why’d you stop?”

 

The question is left unanswered as Kevin catches sight of the man currently walking down the street in the direction of the store and Betty hurrying to take her hair out of the messy bun sitting atop her head. He giggles excitedly and wiggles his eyebrows at her as he gives her a push towards the counter, just as the bell dings indicating he has walked in. “Would you look at that, if it isn’t our _favorite_ customer!”

 

Kevin swivels around and heads back to the kitchen before she can respond, so she sprints quickly to the back of the counter and attempts to muss up her hair in what she thinks is a sexy rumpled look before the man in question makes his way over.

 

She pretends to arrange some of the cookies that are on display as she watches him from the corner of her eye, his eyes going over the chalk written words behind her on the wall detailing the menu. After a few moments of silence they land on her, making her snap out of her peripheral staring and throw a sheepish smile in his direction.

 

“Let me guess, free range turkey on baguette?”

 

He laughs quietly, dimples forming on his cheeks. Betty tries not to melt as he speaks. “I’m getting predictable, huh?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it predictable. More like, dependable. It _has_ been 35 sandwiches now.”

 

She immediately regrets mentioning the number of times he’s ordered the same sandwich for the past 35 days, so she ducks her face slightly and waits for the embarrassment to come.

 

“Hm, you’re counting?” the teasing tilt to his voice makes her look up, only to find an impish smile on his handsome features. Oh my god, she thinks, he’s _so_ hot. Realizing she hasn’t yet answered his question and instead is staring with a look that pretty much says _I want to marry you and have your children_ , she shakes her head.

 

“Ish. 35ish,” she clarifies hastily, moving quickly from the counter to grab the sandwich, before an idea pops in her head. She turns around slowly, willing her voice to sound as inviting as it can be.

 

“You know, there are other things on the menu you could try,” she suggests, looking up at him through her lashes. She knows she’s being obvious, but it’s been 35 days and she figures he might need a little push in the right direction.

 

“Surprise me then,” he offers with a wink, and Betty swears her heart stops at the sight. Blinking, she turns around and blindly grabs the first item on the salted pastries basket. She takes a quick look at it, deciding it’s a good enough example of her baked goods.

 

“I hope you like croissants,” she calls over her shoulder as she sets it on a brown paper bag. He hums in agreement as Betty is tying a small bow at the top of the bag.

 

“How come you’re not wearing an apron with your name on it?” he asks abruptly, making her turn around. He’s grinning widely at her, a glint of something in his eye. _Huh_ , she thinks, _maybe it did work after all_. “So I’d know what it is,” he adds, making her blush.

 

“Oh, it’s Betty,” she says with a smile, stretching her arm over the counter when he takes his hand out of his pocket to shake hers.

 

“Reggie,” he responds simply, his hand lingering on hers even after the shaking has stopped.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Betty says, twirling a piece of hair in between her thumb and forefinger.

 

He chuckles. “We met 35 sandwiches ago.”

 

 _“_ 36 now,” she adds giddily, grabbing the brown bag and handing it out to him. Their fingers brush again, and this time both of them look up at the same time and smile.

 

“Thank you, Betty. Keep the change,” he says as he hands her a bill. Betty giggles and he turns around to leave, but not before exclaiming.

 

 “Hey, sure you don’t want to leave your number on the bowl?” she gestures to a round red bowl sitting on top of the counter, overfilled with cards. “Winner gets a free lunch,” she adds, hoping the offer is enticing enough.

 

He takes a card out of his jackets breast pocket, not breaking eye contact as he deposits the small piece of paper in the bowl. “How about a dinner on me?”

 

Betty smiles coyly and nods, watching him disappear through the door before jamming her hand inside the bowl, making cards fly out.

 

“ _Whoa_ , slow down Betty. You don’t want to seem desperate,” Kevin says to her right, chuckling in amusement as Betty reads through the business cards scattered around the counter.

 

“ _Adam_ … _Charles_...Reggie! Wait, how many Reggies are there in this city?” she mumbles, horrified at the amount of Reggies she’s pulling out.

 

“Ugh,” she groans, letting her head fall against the hard material.

 

“There, there,” Kevin says, rubbing circles into her back.

 

_***_

 

They’re covering one of the biggest games of the season; The Atlanta Falcons vs. the Philadelphia Eagles. There are dozens of T.Vs in front of him, each showing a different angle on the field, or is focused on an important player. His teams sits around him, all wearing headsets in direct communication with the camera men scattered around the stadium.

 

“Quick! On Camera 3 now,” Jughead orders, snapping his fingers at one of the interns.

 

Sure enough, camera 3 shows a player sprinting across the field before being tackled, only a few yards away from the touchdown mark, the crowd cheering loudly.

 

His supervisor gives him a thumbs up from the side, and Jughead nods in response.

 

He’s sure no one is more confused by his career path than himself. He got his degree in English, with a minor in Literature. He graduated years ago with the promise of pursuing grad school in a two year span, since he wanted to work on his novel. He has a half finished book saved in his laptop and no concrete plans of going back to school.

 

 Instead, he’s in charge of camera work for the local sports channel in Atlanta.

 

Archie thought it was hilarious at first, what with Jughead’s aversion to sports in general, but he was also the first to understand it. Jughead had a talent for knowing when things were going to happen because he was an observer by nature. Years and years of watching Archie play football as well as Sundays spent analyzing old games to make him play better trained him in the sport. He knows every move, every play, and every sign.

 

It doesn’t pay too well, but it pays enough to manage the bills. It’s exhausting, he leaves the studio late during game nights and it messes up his sleeping schedule (not that he’s ever really had one, but now that writing has become a luxury for his mind he lays in bed for hours until he eventually dozes off).

 

_***_

 

As soon as Betty gets home she locks the door and heads to the kitchen, dropping her car keys in the bowl filled with other knickknacks as she steps out of her heels. All she wants to do is run a bath and sip on a glass of red wine before going to bed tonight. She checks her cell phone and finds no texts from anyone, so she sighs and grabs the glass from the drying rack and the bottle she started last night and heads to her room.

 

She’s just finishing stripping out of her clothes when a thought crosses her mind. She rummages through her purse until she finds 6 small pieces of paper, all with the name “Reggie” imprinted on them.

 

Once she’s in the bathtub, she takes a sip from her glass before setting it down on the floor and reaching for her phone and the contact cards. She dials the first number, nerves tickling her insides.

 

“Hello?” comes a deep voice from the other side of the phone.

 

“Hi, is this Reggie?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

 

“Yes, Reginald Thompson the Second, are you looking for a car piece, miss? We’re closed now, but you can call again tomorrow—“

 

“Excuse me, were you at a coffee shop called “ _Brioche_ ” today?” she interrupts him.

 

“Today? No miss, you see I just had a hip replacement—“

 

The following 4 are as unsuccessful as the first one. The 3rd Reggie’s wife was not pleased to know her husband had left his number at the coffee shop, which made for a _very_ awkward phone call.

 

She’s just preparing herself for the 6th and final card after leaving a rather giggly voicemail on the 5th after it rang for a few seconds, when her phone starts to buzz in turn. The number is unknown.

 

“Hello?”

 

_“Elizabeth Cooper?”_

 

“Yes, this is she…”

 

She doesn’t move for a few seconds after the call is over. She stares at her phone, dumbfounded as it shows that the call lasted 57 seconds. She jumps out of the tub, water splashing everywhere. She barely registers the glass of wine tumbling to the ground with a crack, or the soaked contact cards next to the broken glass.

 

All she can think as she puts on the first clothes she can get her hands on is that 57 seconds is not long enough, and yet, it seems to be.

 

She gets to the station in a blur. There are sirens in the distance, blue and red flashing angrily against the glass doors. She makes it to the desk, her knees wobbling as she wills herself to speak.

 

 _“_ I— I was called by an Officer Keller,” she stammers, and she catches the lady behind the desk widening her eyes for a millisecond before she gives her a sympathetic smile and tells her to sit.

 

Betty’s stomach churns as she manages to sit on a chair. A million scenarios are playing in her mind, and all she can think is _please don’t let it be true._   

 

She loses focus as she stares at the floor, her nails digging into her palms painfully— but not painfully enough to make her numbness go away.

 

A grey haired man in a police uniform approaches her, but she doesn’t look up. It isn’t until he sits next to her that she realizes he’s been calling her name a few times.

 

He places a hand on her shoulder, and she _knows_. A guttural sob rips through her throat as she tries to breathe through the tears that are falling down her face. She turns her face away from the officer, ashamed even in her state of grief.

 

She sobs and heaves, her chest rising and falling as she tries to calm herself. It takes her a few minutes and all the willpower in the world to take a deep breath and for her sobbing to subside to silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

Officer Keller looks at her expectantly, his eyes full of compassion, and she nods briskly to let him know she’s ready. She isn’t, she never will be, but she has to hear what he has to say.

 

“Ms. Cooper—an officer at the scene found your name and number in an insurance card in Mrs. Andrews’s wallet, that’s how we knew to contact you after…their tragic accident,” he starts, gauging her reaction to his words. She sniffles, and a new set of tears starts to make its way down her face. It’s all so real, and yet, so calm. “We need your assistance in finding their closest next of kin.”

 

She blinks up at him before she finally understands what he’s saying. She shakes her head slightly and clears her throat before daring to speak. “Yes, of— of course. There’s Archie’s da—“her voice breaks at the name, his grinning face and booming laugh playing in her head.

 

Officer Keller gives her an encouraging smile and waits patiently for her to compose herself once more.

 

“How did you—how did you say they—the car flipped and they—?” she hiccups, her mind reeling with the image of her best friends returning home from date night and crashing against a drunk driver.

 

“Miss, I’m not sure if me divulging the details right now is a good idea, not when you’re so distraught. We have a lot of things to go over—“

 

“Sophie!” she exclaims, interrupting him. Her hand flies to her mouth as she tries to grasp what’s going on around her. She hadn’t even thought of Sophie. “They have—had a baby, Sophie!”

 

She stands up abruptly, her hands flying to her hips as she stares at the officer. “Where is she? Oh my god, was she in—?”

 

He looks taken aback by her change of attitude, but Betty thinks her tear stained face and the snot on her upper lip are enough to make her a vulnerable sight.

 

“She was with a neighbor, a girl called Polly. She says she was their babysitter,” Keller elaborates, and Betty breathes a sigh of relief.

 

“Okay, and who has her now?”

 

“Right now, CPS took her for the night,” he explains. At her confused stare, he adds. “Child Protective Services…they take care of cases like this.”

 

“Cases like _this_?” she repeats, the words like a punch to her gut.

 

“Cases with…orphaned children,” Officer Keller clarifies, his eyes lowering to the ground.

 

Betty hurts all over, but she doesn’t feel any pain. Once again, she turns on her side to try to hide the fact that she’s breaking, that she doesn’t know what comes next. Her best friends are gone—the best people she’s ever known are gone and little baby Sophie…left on her own to start a life with strangers. Another sob rakes through her, her whole body shaking as she tries to keep it in.

 

Just then, Jughead sprints into the station, helmet in hand as he pants his way over. He slows down when he sees her, his eyes asking a silent question.

 

Betty shakes her head.

 

His shoulders deflate immediately; his helmet falling to the floor as he quickly closes the space between them and holds Betty to his chest as they both cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys:)  
> Thank you to anyone who's reading, to those who o have left kudos or comments, they mean so much to me. I hope you liked this chapter (it's sad, I know) and I'm so excited to get into the Bughead as parents dynamic.
> 
>  
> 
> I'd appreciate if you left me a comment, it'd be awesome.  
> Find me in tumblr at indiebughead :)


	3. 3

It’s strange, being alone with Jughead in such deafening silence as he drives her car. She’s used to hearing his sarcastic snort accompanied by an eye roll and a snarky comment that often times carries an obscure literary reference, but tonight he’s doing none of those things.

 

Instead, he’d held out his hand expectantly when she’d returned from the bathroom a few minutes after she pulled away from his arms, face splotchy and snot running down her chin.

 

It had taken her a few seconds to realize he’d been asking for her car keys, and even after that it’d taken her a few more seconds to comply.

 

He had made a short call to someone letting them know of the situation and asking if they could pick up his bike from the station, and all Betty had been able to think was that he was handling the situation remarkably calm. He had even thanked the officer on their way out, which is something she hadn’t had the will to do, instead choosing to hide her face on her scarf.

 

They haven’t spoken a word to each other for as long as they’ve been driving, but Betty doesn’t need to ask where they’re going.

 

She knows, partially because she’s driven the same streets hundreds of times by now, but also because she’d been part of the process of choosing the right neighborhood for the Andrews’ back when they were engaged and looking for a house to start their life as a married couple, and eventually, as a family. Veronica, knowing Betty, had asked her to help rule out neighborhoods for them, so Betty had created charts listing the pros and cons, the distance to the nearest preschool, hospital, police station… She knows where every street in a 10 mile radius of their home leads, and yet, when they pass the corner of Baker and Barnes and she spots the familiar white fence that leads to what used to be her best friends’ house, it knocks the air out of her lungs.

 

Jughead parks in their driveway, the engine shutting off quietly as they both stare ahead. Betty’s not sure where Jughead’s specific attention is, but all she can focus on is the red splatter of paint that Archie had accidentally spilled months ago when he went into refurbishing mode, much to Veronica’s chagrin and Jughead’s amusement. Betty had simply rolled her eyes. _“I’ll clean it up eventually,_ ” he’d teased his wife. “ _After all, I have 30 years of mortgage left to pay, I’m not going anywhere.”_

 

He hadn’t, and, Betty thinks with a twist of her stomach, he never will.

 

Eventually, Jughead opens the door and slides out of the car. Betty sees him jog back a couple of steps to the basketball ring that Archie had insisted on buying in case they ever had a boy, or, as Veronica gently reminded him, if Sophie decided she was into it. _“You just want to fulfill the all American image, Arch,”_ Jughead had teased him.

 

Betty watches him as he lifts it and crouches down to retrieve the set of keys that they keep, _kept_ , there for emergencies. Of course, as far as Betty knows, they each have a copy too. She’s grateful for Jughead in that moment, because hers are in her wallet—next to the small square picture of her and Veronica with graduation caps on, and she doesn’t think she’s fully grasped the fact that she’s gone yet.

 

For the past hour, all she’s been able to think about is Veronica; Sophie’s mother and Veronica; Archie’s wife. She hasn’t allowed herself to think about Veronica; the girl she met during their sorority initiation, Veronica; the girl who gave her her first shot of tequila during freshman year and helped her with the hangover the next morning, Veronica; the girl who taught her how to do her eyeshadow like a pro, Veronica; the girl who showed her what real friendship is like. _Was like._

 

 

Jughead raps his knuckles on her window, startling her. He gives her a soft smile before opening the door and extending a hand, and for the second time that night Betty is so grateful for Archie’s weird best friend.

 

“Come on Betts,” he says quietly as he shuts the door behind her and drops her hand in order to lock the car. “We gotta get inside.”

 

 

Stepping through the Andrews’ front door is something she knows she’ll never forget about that night. There are traces of them everywhere and it’s so easy to just imagine that in a minute or two the door will burst open and they’ll hear Veronica’s heels clicking on the wooden floor and Archie’s boisterous laugh as he shrugs off as many layers as he can in seconds. There’s a laundry basket with clean clothes stacked on top of each other by the foot of the stairs. Archie’s briefcase is sitting on the couch, half- open, sheets of paper curling on the edge of falling. There are plates in the sink surrounded by an array of colorful sippy cups.

 

 

“I’m calling CPS, to ask about Sophie,” she announces with a croaky voice, hands flying towards the landline phone that sits on top of their side table.

 

She needs to do something, _anything_ , that prevents her from finding more and more traces of her two best friends right now, or else she’ll break down again.

 

Jughead hums belatedly in agreement just as she’s putting the phone to her ear, which makes her sneak a glance at him. He’s on the couch, Archie’s briefcase by his side. He’s got the stack of papers that were threatening to fall out stacked neatly on his lap, but his finger is tracing the lines that used to make out Archie’s signature.

 

A single tear falls onto the paper, smudging the ink it touches.

 

She’s about to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, her heart twitching with sympathy for this man in front of her who she’s never been particularly fond of, but who has also lost a best friend tonight, a _brother_ , when a voice calls out “ _hello_ ” on her ear.

 

Betty tries to maintain her composure for the first few minutes of the call, her voice sticky with politeness and sweetness, exactly like Alice Cooper had taught her to years ago. _If you want someone’s help you need to butter them up nicely, Elizabeth_. But when her questions are deflected and returned with negative responses, she can’t help but lose her act.

 

“I just don’t understand why we can’t see her tonight,” she exclaims into the mouthpiece, effectively making Jughead snap his head up, eyes glossed over. “Ma’am! I don’t _care_ about your protocol! This is just –“

 

 “Fine! Yes, I’ll be waiting for your call to this number,” she huffs out in exasperation, clicking the call off.

 

“They won’t do anything about it until tomorrow at 8 a.m.,” she tells Jughead in response to his questioning stare.

 

He frowns and throws his crown shaped beanie over the cushions before he stands up, right hand sweeping over his hair.

 

“Just proves how inefficient the whole system is,” he grits out, his eyes flashing with anger. He shakes his head a bit and his demeanor softens. “I’m sure she’s fine, Betty.”

 

Betty doesn’t say anything, just nods her head repeatedly as if wanting to convince herself of this, too.

 

“Look, why don’t we sleep here tonight? That way we’ll be here when they call,” he offers, and her response is to keep nodding. “Why don’t you take the guest room?”

 

The movement of her head stops at this.

 

“Are you, _um_ – going to take their bedroom?” she asks tentatively, unsure of where he’s going with this.

 

He stares at her for a few seconds with eyes that scream out _are you crazy_ , but he doesn’t voice it. “No, of course not. I’ll just take the couch in Arc – in the office.”

 

 _What a stupid thing to ask, Betty._ “Alright, goodnight then,” she says, turning on her heel in the direction of the stairs. She hears him move behind her towards the light switch, and she stops. There’s a click and, under cover of darkness, she whispers. “Thank you, Jug.”

 

She doesn’t turn when he mutters the same sentiment back to her.

.

.

.

 

 

Jughead wakes up the next morning with a stiff neck and a sore back to the sunlight streaming through the office’s window. It takes a minute or two for all of it to come rushing back to him, and with a stifled groan he contemplates just sinking back into the couch in an attempt to forget it all. But then there’s a clank, and so he dresses back in yesterday’s rumpled clothes and makes his way towards the source of the sound.

 

Betty’s already in the kitchen, unsurprisingly, glove covered hands deep into the sink. She gives him an apologetic look as a greeting before she returns to scrubbing.

 

“Anyone call this morning?” he probes, clearing his throat when his voice comes as a low grumble.

 

“Not who we were expecting,” she tells him, voice unsteady.  “Their lawyer did, he’s on his way.”

.

.

.

The man sitting in front of them looks familiar, and Betty wonders if he’s ever attended one of the Andrews’ holiday parties. He introduces himself as Max, from Archie’s law firm, but he doesn’t mention his last name, like they’re old friends. He doesn’t mention anything like this and instead greets them both by their full name.

 

Betty doesn’t even have it in her to snort when _Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third_ falls from his lips, something she didn’t think was possible, so instead she steps to the side to let him in with a polite smile.

 

Jughead doesn’t bother to correct him, but she thinks she catches the way his jaw tightens a bit as they make it to the living room.

 

“Archie was such a joy to work with,” he tells them as a preamble, and they both nod in sync, because they know. Archie was a joy to be around, period.  “He’ll be missed by every one of us at the firm.”

 

“Now, I’m sure that you must have questions,” he adds when neither of them contributes anything to the conversation. She wonders idly if he thinks they’re not being polite, or if he’s used to the unresponsiveness of loved ones when he sits down to discuss legal matters.

 

Betty and Jughead exchange a look before the former opens her mouth to speak. “Well, Sophie-- that’s our main concern right now,” to her side, Jughead nods. “What will happen to her?”

 

 “Well, I already arranged for her transfer. The foster family that she was with last night will bring her to CPS,” Max explains, eyes moving from Betty to Jughead and back again. “They feel like she’ll adjust best in her own environment, so first she needs to be picked up and brought here.”

 

There’s a beat of silence before Jughead speaks up.

 

“Okay,” he drawls out. “And, uh, _who_ does that?”

 

His question is met back with a confused look, followed by Max’s mouth opening and closing a couple of times in what Betty thinks is incredulity. Maybe Jughead’s question wasn’t phrased correctly, but she fails to see why he’d be so surprised. She’d been about to ask the same thing but he had beat her to it.

 

“I’m sorry, are you telling me that they never told you about Sophie’s guardianship?”

 

They both turn to look at each other at the same time, heads shaking in unison as they both indicate that _no, they never did._

 

“Well, in preparing their will we talked about who would take care of Sophie in the extremely unlikely chance that they both died,” he discloses. “And they named you. Both of you.”

 

In a move that would fit into a movie script and definitely not in real life, they both lean forward onto the table and say, at the same time, “ _what?!”_

 

“I’m sure this is not how any of you planned to start a family –“

 

“They named us – together?” Betty interrupts, waving her hand wildly in between Jughead and her.

 

 “I’m sorry?!” Jughead squeaks out at the same time. The consequent glare they shoot each other should be as good as any indication that clearly they can’t take care of a child together.

 

“There’s been a huge misunderstanding,” Betty huffs out, on the verge of laughing. “We are _not_ married.”

 

“No! _No no no no no_ ,” Jughead follows, and he does let out a dry chuckle. “They tried to set us up once, and we didn’t even make it to the restaurant.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t know if it even was a date.”

 

“It _wasn’t_.”

 

“He was a _huge_ dick.”

 

“She’s _kind_ of crazy.”

 

Betty scoffs at this and pushes the heel of her foot into his toes. He yelps, but before he can retaliate Max raises his hand.

 

“Look, I know this is overwhelming, okay? And believe me, I tried to talk them out of it,” he gives them a look that says _obviously_. “But there _are_ options, you can say no.”

 

 _No_. They can say no. Betty starts to process every scenario she can think of. What if –

 

“This is a huge commitment; we’re talking about a child here,” Max spells out slowly, as if they were kids themselves.

 

Jughead doesn’t blame him; he _is_ a child, in many ways. He can’t possibly take care of one.

 

He’s not sure who suggests taking a minute, but next thing he knows he’s sitting on the porch with his head between his knees, chest heaving painfully against his thighs.

 

 _God, Archie, why didn’t you tell me_ runs through his mind a million times over and over again, but on top of that –

 

He knows he can’t possibly say no. Even if he doesn’t understand what the hell they were thinking when they wrote down his name, _he can’t say no._ He knows what it’s like to be a kid who doesn’t have anyone. He knows how scary it is. He doesn’t want that for Sophie—that feeling of uncertainty. He knows Archie must’ve thought of that when he considered him as a potential parent to his kids.  He wonders if he knew that for this very reason and because of his loyalty to him, to his _brother_ , he would accept. And Betty –

 

Betty’s in the backyard, practicing deep breathing just like her therapist suggested in cases where she feels like the air is being sucked out of the world around her and she’s left with none for herself. She hasn’t had one in a while, a panic attack, not since the last time her mother was in town.

 

She tries to remember every single interaction she ever had with Veronica or Archie before Sophie and after Sophie but she comes up with nothing. They never even hinted at it.

 

And then all she can think about is how freaking ironic this whole thing is, that all her dreams of having 2.5 kids with the perfect husband are going to be replaced with her best friends’ orphaned child and Jughead Jones of all people.

 

She digs her nails into her palms in punishment for even thinking that, sharp meeting soft like an old friend.

 

If Veronica – and Archie, too -- deemed her responsible enough to take care of their child then maybe she should allow herself to consider it and give up on her fantasy. After all, they had been forced to give up on theirs and – well, Sophie could be her fantasy.

 

They both make it inside at the same time, eyes on the floor as they scrape their chairs back and sit. Max regards them with a curious look and waits.

 

“So options, what are they, exactly?” Jughead breaks first, elbows resting on top of the table.

 

“Well, there’s Archie’s dad –“

 

Archie’s dad is 75 years old, Betty thinks. Not someone who would be a first choice for a 2 year old baby.

 

“And there’s a few cousins on each side – “

 

 _What if_ , she thinks again. She clears her throat and lays her hands flat on the table.

 

“What if… hypothetically _one_ of us chose to honor their decision, but on their own?”

 

“Or if we chose to do it together?”

 

 _What?_ She doesn’t get the chance to ask Jughead what he means by that, what crazy messed up idea he’s cooking up in his brain that might lead him to believe that they could survive raising a kid together, as if they don’t hate each other because the man in front of them cuts her chance.

 

“Well, we would need a judge to settle on it, but essentially, since you _are_ honoring their legal wish, it wouldn’t be a problem,” he explains with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

 

“Is there anything else we need to know?” Jughead inquires after nodding thoughtfully, one of his hands flying back to rub at his neck.

 

“Well, as far as finances go, the mortgage will be covered, but that’s about it. The Andrews’ didn’t have much saved up, but that can be discussed later,” Max waves his hand dismissively as he speaks.

 

“My suggestion is that you two should move into this house.”

 

Betty snorts and isn’t even bothered by the nagging voice that reminds her that it’s unladylike to do so when Jughead turns to look at her with narrowed eyes.

 

“Excuse me, you mean like – together?” she clarifies, voice filled with laughter.

 

“Yes together, you need to give Sophie a sense of normalcy, and it would be ideal in your situation to present yourselves as a strong front for now, no matter what your decision ends up being.”

.

.

.

 

 

She loads the CPI location address into her GPS as Jughead settles into the passenger seat next to her, a bag of chips on his lap and the accompanying scrunch of his teeth going to town on the ranch flavored snack the only sound in the car.

 

“What?” he says defensively after swallowing, in response to her raised eyebrows.  “A lot of people lose their appetite in times of crisis, but mine – well, mine increases.”

 

Betty rolls her eyes as she turns on the ignition, her initial quip of _you should be a little bit more respectful_ dies on her lips as she purses them, lost in thought.

 

They haven’t spoken much since Max left the house with the promise of calling them in a few days to discuss papers and signatures. His voice had become quiet when he informed them that their bodies would be available for pickup by the funeral service soon, after the forensic department deemed it so. Betty made it to the couch before the tears started, and Jughead had sat next to her with his head on his hands until the phone rang and he stood up to answer.

 

“So, what do you think we should do?” she breaks first as she pulls out of the driveway.

 

He looks surprised that she’s asking him, as if he thought his opinion wouldn’t matter to her. He runs his dusty fingers over his jean clad thigh before he responds.

 

“Uh, well. I’m not saying we shouldn’t consider their family as candidates but –“he starts, unsure on how to tell her what’s been running through his mind ever since they were given the news.

 

“Yeah, I know,” she interrupts, and one quick sideway glance at her confirms that she, in fact, does. Her eyes stare ahead in determination but there’s a softness around them that tells him that she might’ve been nursing similar thoughts.

 

“Okay,” he says after a beat, nodding.

 

“Okay,” she echoes back with a nod of her own.

 

.

.

.

 

Betty knows, rationally, that Sophie is too young to really understand who they are. But when her little face lights up and her chubby arms reach out to grasp one strand of blonde hair and the edge of a grey wool beanie, her heart gives a tug in her chest.

 

“Hi baby girl,” she coos as the social worker transfers her into Betty’s arms with a somber smile. She’s rewarded with a gurgle and a giggle, brown eyes bright and happy. This time, her heart churns in pain instead.

 

Jughead reaches out and flicks a red lock of hair out of her forehead before dropping a kiss in the spot of skin he just revealed.

 

Afterwards, it’s a blur of sitting down and signing papers and talking to a few social workers as Sophie sits in the corner of the office playing with some stuffed animals.

 

Betty finishes strapping Sophie into her bright pink car seat as Jughead starts the car. In a move that surprised her, and she thinks him too, by the look that crossed his face right after he said it, Jughead had been the one to remember the importance of taking the car accessory with them to pick Sophie up.

 

She clicks on her seatbelt and Jughead starts to drive out of the parking lot, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel as he double checks each side of the road before getting on his lane. _This must be the first time he drives with a baby on board_ , she considers, and then –

 

_We should get a car sticker._

 

She’s not sure what surprises her more:  her use of _we_ or the fact that her car sporting a bright yellow sticker that lets everyone know she’s a mother of sorts doesn’t terrify her as much as it should.

 

“We’re doing this,” Jughead mutters as they’re waiting on a red light, so low that if Betty hadn’t been already hyperaware of him during the entire ride so far because of the thoughts that have been running through her mind, she wouldn’t have heard him.

 

“For them,” she replies simply.

 

“For her,” he says, louder this time and their eyes meet in the rearview mirror as they stare at the small bundle of olive skin and red hair that they might have to start calling theirs soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi you guys!
> 
> So so sooo sorry for the long wait on this chapter. It took me a while to get into the right headspace with all my school responsabilities, but here it is and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> As those of you who have seen the movie can probably tell, I’m keeping some things and discarding others for the sake of lenghth and overall the story I want to tell, so I hope you don’t mind!
> 
> Thank you all so much, your comments are so lovely!
> 
> As always, find me over at indiebughead on Tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,  
> So excited for this new project. Been wanting to write it for a while, but it turns out writing a movie inspired AU is way more difficult than you might think. I struggled a lot with scene selection, characterization and adding my own input to the story, so to that effect, a couple of things:  
> 1\. As I said, I want to clarify that is is inspired by and not based on the movie. If it were based on I would need to transcribe every single line of dialogue, and that would be pretty boring and tiring (admittedly I did this for this first chapter to set the tone and will probably steal some lines from the original source, but as the story progresses I will be leaning less on it just in case.)
> 
> 2\. Characterization: the wonderful thing about AUs is that you can fit any character into any scenario. That being said, you probably noticed a few changes between Messer and Jughead. I talked it over with MotherMaple who was kind enough to listen to my rants, and I decided (with a lot of her help) to not portray Jughead as the womanizer Messer is in the movie. That being said, I replaced a lot of scenes with more canon Jughead scenarios (read: food), although some scenes do imply the presence of another woman (gasp: magical penis) but that will be cleared up eventually.
> 
> 3\. As for Betty, her characterization as Holly will most likely stay the same. They both share type A qualities and concerns in general, as well as a career that I could see Betty getting into (a bakery/restaurant) but we shall see where future chapters take us.
> 
> 4\. This is going to be the start of a series inspired by movies (I’m thinking "Serendipity", "Sleepless in Seattle", for now)  
> * in the movie Messer's phone starts ringing with a hip hop song I think but I wanted it to fit Jughead's characterization in that particular scene a little better (i mean, to embarrass him further) so I googled 'most embarrassing ringtones' and this song "My Neck, my Back" by Khia came up and I could not help myself. 
> 
> That is all, I think. Thank you for the support and remember to leave a comment!
> 
> Find me in Tumblr at indiebughead :)


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